Betty Adams's Blog, page 66

Humans are Weird - Chocolate Cake

​Humans are Weird – Chocolate Cake

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“Do you know why we called you in to talk today?”  Fifteenth Sister asked.
The human shifted uneasily in his chair and glanced anywhere but at her gleaming faceted eyes.
Fifteenth Sister made a quick mental check of her expression. She hoped she wasn’t displaying human aggression signals. Her mandibles rested in a closed but not tight position, her antenna were perked in interest, and her head was slightly tilted to the side to give her the best focus on the human.
“I really don’t,” the human finally said.
Fifteenth Sister flicked her antenna in acknowledgment.
“I am afraid that Amblesalong had some concerns about you health,” Fifteenth Sister informed him.
“Okay…” the human tightened the fleshy covering over his disconcerting single point eyes.
That meant he was focusing his attention on her, waiting for further information, she remembered.
“Yes,” Fifteenth Sister went on, “he was concerned that you had not reported intaking enough nutrients to maintain your health.”
“Dude,” the human muttered as his gaze dropped to his hands and the smooth expanse of his forehead wrinkled in a fascinating manner.
She took the totality of his reactions to me he was pondering this information.
“Don’t know where he gets off saying that,” the human finally said. “I’ve been eating plenty and I reported all of it in my daily log.”
“Here is your log,” Fifteenth Sister pulled up the table on the holographic display.
She was increasingly gratefully that their sight overlapped enough that they could share this most efficient display method.
“Can you confirm that these are the inputs you entered?” She asked.
“Yeah,” the human said after a moment. “That seems about right.”
“According to this,” Fifteenth Sister said. “You have consumed primarily simple, dead carbohydrates for the past three days.”
“Yeah,” the human bobbed his head vigorously in a manner that would have indicated serious neural dysfunction in a Shatar. “Since the party, we’ve been going through the remaining party food.”
“Amblesalong assures me that this is a wholly inadequate diet for your species,” Fifteenth Sister observed. “He even suggested that if you continued this pattern it could start showing serious medical effects within days.”
“Yeah well,” the human raised and lowered his shoulders, “the chocolate cake is almost gone so it’ll be fine. I mean I won’t get scurvy in three days.”
Fifteenth Sister felt her antenna curl in annoyance and worked to keep her frill level. She had been warned about human carelessness about their nutrient health. She would deal with this like a professional. 

Humans are Weird - Schadenfreude

​Humans are Weird – Schadenfreude
“May I see what you find amusing Human Friend Mack?” Quilx’tch asked.
Survey Core Ranger Mack Dodge shifted his tablet up so the Trisk could see the screen and invited Quilx’tch to perch on his shoulder. Quilx’tch scampered over and settled onto Mack’s shoulder.
“Just enjoying a little schadenfreude,” Human Friend Mack said. “I’ve been mentoring this idiot for months and his gravitational chickens just came home to roost.”
Quilx’tch mulled over how little those sentences meant to him as Human Friend Mack reset the video play.
“Could you please adjust the blue range light?” Quilx’tch requested.
“Oh? Right Quick Bud,” Mack said as his fingers flicked across the screen at the end of his massive limbs.
The light from the screen muted and the image clarified. It was of a human in the uniform of a Survey Core Ranger. He was clearly setting up some sort of sensor or collection device in a fairly complex patter in the middle of a forest clearing.
“Told ya the brackets couldn’t hold in a planetary well,” Human Friend Mack muttered.
Quilx’tch pondered that as he watched the playback. It was fairly clear from context that Human Friend Mack wasn’t talking to him. The video was clearly pre-recorded and no note recording function seemed to be active on the tab. Did humans normally attempt to converse with non-responsive media? However the scene depicted soon drew his full attention. The energetic overload lights on the sensors  began to flash and then one on the fringes began to smoke. The central sensor suddenly exploded in sparks and dropped like a stone, striking the human Ranger on his head.
Human Friend Mack burst into laughter, beginning with a hoot that startled Quilx’tch into standing.
“I told him he couldn’t by-guess-and-by-golly those repuslers,”  Human Friend Mack said within his laughter.
“Human Friend Mack!” Quilx’tch snipped out in shock. “Are you indulging in sadism?”
“Huh?” Human Friend Mack glanced down at Quilx’tch out of the corner of one eye. “Sadism? No, why?”
“Are you not taking great pleasure in that human’s suffering?” Quilx’tch asked.
“Well, yes,” Human Friend Mack admitted as he flicked his fingers to play the scene again.
“Isn’t that sadism,” Quilx’tch asked.
“No, no,” Human Friend Mack assured him. “Sadism is enjoying causing pain.”
“Do you have a name for the enjoyment you are experiencing at his pain now?” Quilx’tch asked.
“Oh yeah,” Human Friend Mack said with a grin, “we call this beauty of a situation schadenfreude.”
“And how does it differentiate from sadism?”Quilx’tch asked.
“Because I warned the idiot!” Human Friend Mack spat out. “I must have told him forty times that you have to sync the gyros to the exact gravity or they’ll pop. I went over the procedure with him as many times. Like I said, chickens.”
“So this, schadenfreude,” Quilx’tch said. “It is taking enjoyment out of failing to instruct your friends in safety procedures.”
“Nah,” Human Friend Mack said as he played the loop again, “just means enjoying the suffering of others. The ‘I told him so’ bit is just icing on the cake.”
Quilx’tch counted up the number of colloquialisms and decided that perusal wasn’t worth it.
 

Humans are Weird - Percentage

Humans are Weird – Percentage


“Hey little bud I’m headed out for a little R  and R,” Dr. Sharon called out as he passed the main bio-chemistry lab. “Want me to grab you some rockrat samples while I’m out there?”
The only response from the lab was a distracted hum and Dr. Sharon frowned and strode over to the open door. He poked his head in to see the Undulate he was addressing slumped against one of a pair of two-litter sample jugs labeled ‘solvent’ running his appendages over about a dozen sealed vials.
“Rolls?” Dr. Sharon asked again.
“Yes, Human Friend Sharon?” Rollscarefully finally replied.
“Want me to grab you some rockrat samples?” Dr. Sharon asked.
“Please do,” Rollscarefully replied with an absent wave of an appendage.
“Something bothering you lil bud?” Dr. Sharon asked, ambling into the lab.
“These containers of ethanol concentrate arrived without proper labeling,” Rollscarefully explained, indicating the vats leaning against the far wall. “The manifest says one is a sixty percent solution and the others are all ten percent solution. I tapped them for samples but all of the equipment capable of testing the concentration is in use on priority projects.”
“So you just need to know which of those little vials is the strong stuff?” Dr. Sharon asked, strolling up to the Undulate.
“Yes, however-” Rollscarefully began.
“Get me a napkin and I can figure it out for you real quick,” Dr. Sharon said with a cheerful grin.
“Ah, thank you,” Rollscarefully said.
He slipped eagerly over to the cabinet that held the cleaning supplies.
“I didn’t know that you were able to use the absorbent materials for that purpose. Is it your limited visual range that-“
Rollscarefully stopped suddenly with the white napkin held in an upraised appendage.  Every appendage suddenly extended in horror as Dr. Sharon tossed the fifth vial of ethanol concentrate into his mouth. Three empty vials were held loosely in his other hand. Dr. Sharon smacked his lips and held up the vial with a satisfied smile.
“That’s the one!” he said with a nod. “Near ninety proof.”
He tossed the fourth vial to the side and returned the other three to their holders. He strolled past Rollscarefully and plucked the napkin out of his appendage.
“You’re welcome lil’ bud,” Dr. Sharon said cheerfully. “I’ll get you those rockrats by tonight.”
Several minutes after he had strolled out of the door Rollscarefully shook himself and hurried over to the comm unit.
“I need to talk to a medic who knows human biochemistry now!” Rollscarefully cried into the comm. 

Humans are Weird - Pacing

Humans are Weird – Pacing

“Commander Grrank,” the voice of the security officer cracked over the comm, interrupting Commander’s Grranks review of the latest inventory.
“Yes Captain Graln?” He responded, reaching over to scratch the microphone on.
“There has been a manual security alert in the primary corridor,” Captain Graln said slowly.
Too slowly.
“Are you at optimal temperature Captain?” Commander Grrank demanded, narrowing his nostrils in concern.
“Perhaps my thoughts are not,” Captain Graln replied.
But Commander Grrank could hear his security officer shake himself and began speaking more briskly. 
“The security alert. I have never seen this exact pattern.” Captain Graln explained.
“What is the pattern?” The commander asked.
“Five diamonds over mesh.”  Captain Graln answered, his teeth grinding together in confusion.
Commander Grrank remained silent, waiting for the rest of the pattern but Captain Graln remained still.
“All I can gather from that,” Commander Grrank, finally replied. “Is that the ranking officer, namely me, needs to deal with this personally.”
“That was my conclusion as well,” Captain Graln agreed.
“Who reported this?” Commander Grrank asked as he slipped off his couch and pulled his utility harness over his shoulders.
“It is a community report,” Captain Graln replied.
“So who reported it?” Commander Grrank asked, flicking his nostrils in annoyance.
“All of them,” Captain Graln answered.
“All of them,” Commander Grrank repeated.
“Every member of the base who isn’t you, me, or that private who is stuck in med-bay for frost-bite.” Captain Graln assured him.
“And what is the location of the disturbance?” Commander Grrank asked.
“The main corridor,” Captain Graln replied.
Commander Grrank stopped in front of the door and ran his clenched claws over the scales on his forehead.
“Where in the main corridor?” he asked.
“It’s full length,” Captain Graln  said.
Commander Grrank stopped and narrowed his nostrils again.
“Is the human involved?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” Captain Graln said. “The human was the other one who didn’t report the event.”
“The scent thickens,” Commander Grrank muttered as he stalked through the door.
He found the disturbance easily enough. He had to all but climb over three geologists who were crouched in the door that led to the main corridor. They were apparently fascinated by the source of a rhythmic thumping sound that was passing up and down the corridor. The source of the sound was the human biologist who had been assigned to the base. He was clutching a data pad in one of his hands, glancing at it occasionally as he fell down the corridor.
“It think it must be true that they have a secondary brain in their lower spinal column to control their bipedal walking,” one of the geologists observed.
“Do you think that the secondary brain took over his physical functions while the main brain was distracted by preparing for the conference?” Commander Grrank asked as he followed the human’s movements with one eye.
“There is no secondary brain,” another of the geologists snapped. “That is a myth.”
“Then why would the primary brain be dictating this behavior?” the first asked.
Commander Grrank gave a grumble of irritation and thrust his forequarters out into the corridor.
“Human!” he barked out, pumping extra power into his vocal chords.
The human kept walking for several paces before he slowed. His head rotated slowly and his predatory binocular eyes swept the higher levels of the corridor blankly for the disturbance.
“Human!” the commander barked again.
The human seemed to focus on the sounds and rotated his body to blink slowly at the commander. They stared at each over for several long moments before the commander spoke.
“What are you doing human?” he demanded.
“I’m,” the human paused, reaching up to sweep his fibrous radiation scales away from his eyes, “I’m just prepping for the presentation.” He replied.
“Does this require you to take up the entire main corridor?” Commander Grrank demanded.
The human stared at him for several long moments. The round eyes unfocused and the head bobbed.
“Yeah, pacing helps me get my thoughts together,” the human finally replied.
Commander Grrank eyed him skeptically.
“Do you think you could do this pacing during the night cycle?” he suggested. “You are making the corridor unusable for your fellow scientists.”
“No,” the human shook his head slowly. “I need to get this done…but I can do it outside!”
“Outside,”  the commander said. “Where the temperature is currently well below the freezing point of your blood.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the human said with a wave of one of his wide, flat hands. “I’ll put on a coat and hat, and all that.”
“I cannot allow-“ Commander Grrank began.
“No, no it’s cool,” the human said as he headed for the exit lock. “The pacing will keep me warm. Warm blooded and all that. Cheers.”
Dozens of pointed green noses poked out of doors and dozens of amber eyes stared after the human as he passed through the inner airlock door. Then they turned in confusion on the commander.
“Are we going to allow that?” the medic asked.
“How do you propose we stop that?” Commander Grrank indicated the sealed door with a flick of his tail. “Warm blooded and all that indeed.”

Humans are Weird - Debatable

Humans are Weird – Debatable

​
“Pardon me, Commander,” Seventh Sister began as she approached the central data processing center for the base.  
The Trisk Commander was busily collecting and analyzing the many data points the researchers had brought in that day. Seventh Sister waited patiently for the Trisk to notice her greeting and respond. Finally the small alien turned his body so his primary eyes focused on her. His appendages, which had been busily working away at the console grew respectfully still and curled under his body.
“How may I serve your needs Seventh Sister?” the Commander asked.  
“I am concerned that the humans are engaging in an argument in the recreational room,” she said, working the concepts out carefully. “They are consistently  increasing their volume.”
The commander slumped and brushed his primary eyes in what she assumed was a sign of frustration.
“Let us look into the matter,” he said.
“I believe the security cameras will be sufficient to view what is occurring,” Seventh Sister offered as he turned to one of his screens.
“That probably won’t be necessary,” the Trisk said as he pulled up a schedule. “Yes, there it is. This should explain the situation.”
He altered the light projection so it fell fully into her range and indicated a scheduled group activity that was currently unfolding in the recreational room. Seventh Sister leaned forward and considered the information. Her mandibles clicked and her neck frill twitched uneasily.
“It says that it is a theoretical discussion,” she observed.
“Yes,” the Commander said. “Do note the topic.”
“If I am reading this correctly,” she said. “It is in regards to a…non-existent species, and they are debating the capacity of said non-existent species to engage in mêlée combat with humans … using primitive weapons from a past era.”
“You have summarized the situation well,” the Commander said. “Now do you understand?”
She stared at him for several long moments, tilting her head from side to side.
“I do not,” she finally confessed.
“Neither do I,” the Commander said waving his main gripping appendage dismissively. “However the human who organized this discussion assured me that these aggression displays are normal and security is not to intervene unless their internal fluids start to escape their external membranes.”
“Is there truly a chance of physical altercation resulting over a theoretical discussion?” Seventh Sister demanded.
“Why did you come in here to report the situation?” the Commander asked.
“I was concerned about the levels of aggression displayed,” she replied. “I see.”
They stood in companionable confusion for several long moments. Finally the commander spoke.
“I am monitoring their vital signs,” he assured her, “and I will intervene if the situation, ‘comes to blows’, as they say, but when this particular cadre of humans arrived I was informed that situations like this would occur from time to time, and while altercations would be frequent actual physical violence would be rare. If you wish to educate yourself on the behaviors in question I could give you the search terms that the central University sent me.”
“I would appreciate that,” she said, her frill relaxing in relief.
“Apparently,” the Commander said as he gathered the data to send to her. “These are a sub-species of humans known as ‘geeks’.”  
 
 

Humans Are Weird - What's Your Poison

Humans are Weird – What’s Your Poison
         

​       “This species alone could move this planet into an entirely different classification,” Quilx’tch was saying with delight. Look at that protein profile. Why, even the Hellbats could draw sustenance from this plant with little effort.”
“So what’s the poison?” the human asked idly as they stared at the glowing display of the flower on the screen.
Quilx’tch turned to regard the human, awaiting further clarification. The human was intently studying the corolla however and the seconds ticked by well past even Trisk standards of politeness before the human noticed that Quilx’tch hadn’t responded yet and glanced down at him. The human’s face was expectant the nutritional anthropologist realized.
“Forgive me,” Quilx’tch said. “I do not understand the question.”
“What poison does the plant carry?” the human asked, gesturing at the delicate flower on the display.
“I have just listed off its entire nutrient profile,” Quilx’tch stated in confusion. “There is nothing in that plant that either your specie or mine would find poisonous.”
“No poison?” the human asked, his expression broadening in surprise. “None at all?”
“No,” Quilx’tch replied after letting the normal six seconds pass by. “Why would I suggest a plant known to be poisonous-”
“But with a nutrient profile like that. Just so much good stuff all in one place-“ the human interrupted him and then paused with a frown. “Oh. Is it fiber then?”
“Did you just interrupt yourself?” Quilx’tch demanded after a moment.
“What?” the human asked, staring at him, the soft, fleshy eye coverings shuttering rapidly over his eyes.
They stared at each other in confusion a moment before Quilx’tch gave up.
“Fiber?” Quilx’tch fixed on the last item that made some sense. “Yes. It has the normal amount for a terrestrial species. I have listed it here-“
“Nah,” the human interjected with a frown. “That’s not it. Not nearly enough.”
Quilx’tch tried to process that and formulate a question to ask but the human went on.
“Thorns then?” the human asked.
“Thorns?” Quilx’tch asked, raising an appendage in a request for clarification.   
“The plant,” the human said. “Does it have thorns?”
“No.” Quilx’tch replied. “I examined-“
“Hairs then?” the human pressed. “Enough hair will do it.”
Quilx’tch realized with a spark of hope that he was missing a vital component of whatever conversation the human thought they were having. If he could only find out what the human was truly after-
“No, no hairs,” the human concluded, focusing in on the stem. “It’s gotta be here somewhere. Maybe a geographical defense then. Does it only grow in super remote places?”
“It grows commonly over the majority of the landmasses,” Quilx’tch stated, but a light was dawning in his thoughts.
“Maybe just a little toxin on the leaf tips,” the human was muttering as he turned the image this way and that.
“Human Coworker Bob,” Quilx’tch began, “why are you so convinced that this plant must have some drastic defense mechanism?”
“Because there’s no such thing as a free lunch,” the human said, his face stiffening in a grim look. “No plant makes itself this nutritious and delicious without defending itself from predation. Trust me, there will be barbs, or toxin tipped spines, or, or something.”
Quilx’tch pondered this as he began composing a note. Paranoia was really outside of his field but the psychologists would be glad of any observations. 

Buzz Off - An Ode To Spring

Buzz Off - An Ode To Spring
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Humans are Weird - A Very Social Club

Humans are Weird - A Very Social Club


“And this is the entry way. They do press releases here,” Human Friend Steve was saying as he waved his hand around the structured cavern of metamorphic rock. “And here is the rotunda. Supposedly the capstone was brought from Earth itself.”
“May I go inspect it?” Forty-seventh Click asked.
“Sure thing little guy,” Human Friend Steve said with a grin. “You have full run, ah flight of the place. No wasps on this planet.”
Forty-seventh Click shivered and smoothed his fur at the reminder and took off. The central block of metamorphic stone was a distinct color from the surrounding sections. He fluttered up and gently rubbed his sensory horns against the surface. It was artificially smoothed by a primitive machine process. It carried the scents of generations of collection of dust and moisture. It was an impressive central piece to center such an important building around.
“Yo! Forty-seven!” Human Friend Steve called out. “The senate is in recess so we have twenty minutes to see the hall.”
Forty-seventh Click abandoned his inspection of the central stone and landed on Human Friend Steve’s head.
“Those are the seats so the senate can rest. The media sits down there,” Steve was explaining.
“Why are the seats covered in fur-mimic?” Forty-seventh Click interrupted.
“Uh…fancy pants stuff?” Human Friend Steve said in the tone that suggested it was more of a guess. “It looks nice? Oh! And human skin doesn’t stick to velvet in the summer!”
“Velvet,” Forty-seventh Click muttered. “I’ll look it up later.”
“Great-“ Human Friend Steve went on, “now-”
“What is that shiny thing?” Forty-seventh Click asked.
“Lots of shiny things in the room,” Human Friend Steve pointed out.
“Over there,” Forty-seventh Click latched his winghook into the human’s ear and turned his head to the dais that displayed the item in question.
“Oh that!” Human Friend Steve’s face lit up with childish delight.  “That’s the Mace of the Republic! It came all the way from Earth too. The House back on Earth gifted it to the House here on Centauri.”
“Isn’t a mace a heavy combat weapon?” Forty-seventh  Click demanded. “Specifically isn’t it the kind that Great Warrior Eustace forged from the roots of the bronze trees to arm the botanical expedition in the Battle of the  Fanged Horror?”
“Yup,” Human Friend Steve nodded eagerly. “Only this one is made of metal so it has way more heft.”
“Why is a heavy combat weapon kept in an easily accessible point in a legislative assembly?” Forty-seventh Click asked.
“For keeping order,” Human Friend Steve. “It represents the power and tradition of the state. It’s a tradition going back thousands and thousands of years; to the very first republics.”
“Oh,” Forty-seventh Click said, clicking in self depreciating amusement. “A representation of state power. Of course.”
“And then the Speaker of the House can use it to threaten unruly senators with a clubbing if they don’t listen,” Human Friend Steve stated.
“So you gather together the best and brightest, hopefully the most reasonable, humans to solve your problems,” Forty-seventh Click observed, “and when they become heated their elected leader beats them with a club.”
“Oh goodness no,” Human Friend Steve said with a laugh.
“I am glad I misunderstood,” Forty-seventh Click said in relief.
“No, no,” Human Friend Steve said as he pointed to the human guard standing in one corner. “She has the sergeant-at-arms do the actual threat and clubbing.”

Humming in the House

This little lady got her beak stuck in the window screen of my room. It made her easy to catch and release. 

Google Search - HD Becomes Common

Researching the development and implementation of high definition television in relation to sensory issues led me to Google  the term - HD becomes commonplace. 
I was expecting to face the usual problem when googling common ideas, choosing between the near infinite references.
To my surprise the search I entered brought me no - 0 - relevant results on the first page. 
Only what you see above. 
"When Supernatural Battles Became Common Place"
Oh Google...
What is going on in your algorithms that my search for a simply early 'oughts date range for some basic tech brought me to this adorable manga? 
I have not searched the details yet but I think I did watch the anime way back when. Before it had an English title. I must read it now to be sure. 
Cheers. 
And if you were wondering when the presence of HD screens and broadcasting began to have negative effects on those of us with sensory issues you are out of luck. 
Blame Google.